


Multi-Universe Swap

by Porkchop_Sandwiches



Category: Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Multi-universe, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: Aaron Paul and Jesse Pinkman switch bodies.
Relationships: Bryan Cranston/Aaron Paul, Bryan Cranston/Jesse Pinkman, Jesse Pinkman/Walter White, Walter White/Aaron Paul
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizwontcry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/gifts).



> I wrote this about five years ago and left it on Tumblr. A few people wanted me to move it here and it's taken me way too long to comply with those sweet requests. The beginning is high key lazy and summarized and then it gets good. Well, if you're into body switching stories with no definitive ending. Lizwontcry, a friend of mine, is posting her own ending to this soon, so look out for that :)

Okay, let me set this up (bare with me): Aaron and Bryan are still filming Breaking Bad but they’re also dating. I’m just erasing significant others to save time. They were flirting the first time they met, but they didn’t hook up until after that cast party where they dressed up as the other guy’s character and things got serious right away. They’re hopelessly in love: holding hands a lot, fooling around in Aaron’s trailer on their breaks, going to baseball games together where Aaron always buys Bryan as many hot dogs and beers as the guy wants. He takes selfies of the two of them and puts them on Instagram and he usually yawns around the sixth or so inning because he’s not really into baseball and Bryan will playfully tug on the bill of Aaron’s baseball cap because Aaron is trying to pretend to be excited but he _really_ is yawning a lot.

Anyway, they’re sex life is awesome. No complaints on Aaron’s end except recently he’s been asking Bryan if they can role-play as Walt and Jesse. He wants Bryan to be a little rougher with him, but Aaron is the first man Bryan has ever been with and Bryan is actually a huge, super sweet softy and doesn’t want to hurt Aaron in any way. He keeps turning him down, being sarcastic and kind about it, but Aaron is getting a little annoyed because he just wants Bryan to _really_ rail into him and bite him and claw at him as he moans out “ _Mr. White._ ”

Aaron wants it just for the killer orgasm, but even after years of playing Jesse and dealing with “leaving” the character at work, he still feels like Jesse is sad and alone inside of him, kind of like a chill up his back during the drive to work when he’s by himself, and having sex like this feels promising and cathartic on a certain level.

Then Aaron wakes up one morning in Jesse’s bed! :O

Yep, he’s literally in the “world” of Breaking Bad. It takes him a while to figure out this shit is real and he’s not on set. The ceilings aren’t fly-away for cameras and his tattoos aren’t coming off. Eventually, he believes it and figures out he’s in late third season and how to get to the lab and THEN he convinces Walt that he is a man named Aaron Paul and that Breaking Bad is a TV show and he’s from another dimension (this is the laffy taffy-level stretching/reaching/makes no shit stuff I mentioned before). And Walt even after like a week or so that it takes to explain all of this, he’s still a little doubtful.

But, Aaron is so much more well-spoken. He doesn’t talk back to Walt and he’s like a DREAM in the lab, like don’t get me wrong, we all know that Walt and Jesse have this nonverbal, in-the-groove shit when they cook together, but cooking with Aaron is a little more like it was with Gale. And Aaron of course is a fucking sweetheart. Once he realizes he’s stuck in this universe for the time being, he gives his all into being Jesse and he buys Mr. White breakfast to bring into the lab and researches chemistry stuff in the evening as dutifully as if he were preparing for a role. He doesn’t sell their meth on the side, and he actually gives Walt legitimately helpful advice about Skyler, though he doesn’t really take it.

Then one day (Aaron’s been there for maybe close to three weeks) Walt catches Aaron checking him out while they change out of their hazmat suits. Walt kind of cocks an eyebrow and makes eye contact with Aaron, who blushes and looks away all “Sorry, man. I just...uh...”

And Aaron is really starting to miss Bryan, waking up next to him, kissing him, _being_ with him at all.

Aaron pulls up Jesse’s jeans with an awkward tug, looking off to the side now. “The guy who plays you...well, he and I, like...we go out. We’re...together. I sort of miss him...like a lot.”

“The actor who plays me is a homosexual?” Walt asks. He’s working on the buttons on his shirt and asking in a very matter-of-fact way, no judgement in his voice.

“I mean...I’m actually the only guy he’s been with. You...he’s the...only guy I’ve been with too.” He sniffs and finally gets his left foot in his sneaker.

“Are you a...are you gay?” Walt is dressed, pausing by his locker.

Aaron shrugs. “I’m still attracted to women. But, I’m really in love with you...uh, him. I don’t know.”

Walt smiles a little smugly. “ _Ah_ , Hollywood.”

Aaron laughs, pretty hard, and Walt is a little more pleased than he thinks he should be hearing that sound from him. And Aaron is sort of gazing at him fondly.

“That sounds like something Bryan would say.”

“Huh,” Walt say. He’s too curious to not ask his next question. “Do we look the same? This Bryan fellow and myself, I mean. I understand he so to speak plays my part, but are there any physical differences?”

Aaron smiles, liking where this is going because Walt thinks he’s being crafty, but come on, Aaron’s read enough scripts and done enough character analyses with Vince and Bryan to know how the guy thinks.

“When we’re not filming he’s got a full head of hair and he shaves, no glasses either. But uh, for five or so months out of the year, you guys are fucking identical twins. Same bodies and everything.”

Aaron makes a point of running his tongue across his bottom lip and looking Walt up and down.

And Walt is flattered, turned-on, and flustered at the same time.

“Can I buy you a beer, Mr. White?” Aaron says.

Walt can’t believe how confident this boy is. He nods and soon enough they’re sitting in a dimly lit bar and Aaron in Jesse’s clothing is poised and charming and has all of these amazing stories about staying at a Prince’s house and meeting Michael Jackson, his journey in becoming an actor, being an ambitious seventeen-year-old with three part-time jobs who graduated a year early to move out to California at such a young age to pursue his dream. It’s everything Walt did wrong with Grey Matter and it’s both hard to hear, but yet nice to imagine Jesse applying himself in such a way. When Aaron ordered himself an Old Fashioned, it was a little startling and Walt even frowned as their server walked away.

“Hey, it’s cool, I’m not an addict. I can handle myself.” Aaron says. It’s dark enough here to slide his hand under the table and touch Walt on this part of his right knee where he knows Bryan is really sensitive. He grabs it a little and rubs a little higher.

Aaron’s been really playing up his LA stories, trying to impress the guy, woo him even.

Walt has an immediate physical reaction to Aaron’s hand in a way he’s never experienced before. No one has touched him _just_ like that _there_ and it feels strangely good for somewhere so innocuous. And then the boy has found some other triggering nerve in his inner thigh that makes him part his legs as involuntarily as the jaws of a ventriloquist’s dummy. He’s too stunned to say anything, especially when Aaron fondles his crotch and starts rubbing him just how he likes.

“Is this good, Mr. White?” Aaron whispers across the table. The guy’s mouth has gone slack and his eyes are glazing over, but he wants to hear it from Mr. White himself. “I know your cock as well as mine. Just imagine my mouth around you, sucking you _just_ right, Mr. White. Let me do that for you. Come on, let’s get out of here. Let me make you feel so good, Mr. White. You deserve this.”

Walt’s almost in a stupor from all of this but that last part really gets him. Goddamn right he deserves this. He hasn’t been laid in much too long, put up with too much stress recently, and someone who is this well-tuned to his body is too tempting to pass up.

He nods.

Soon they’re in the back of the Aztek, the lot thankfully empty aside from parked cars, and Walt vaguely remembers a similar scenario with Skyler in the school parking lot except for the fact that Aaron is giving him the best fucking blow job of Walt’s life. The boy _really_ knows where to lick, how much pressure to use as he pulls those lips up and down Walt’s shaft, and he’s all the way down Aaron’s throat in a way no woman has before. He doesn’t even have any qualms over being roughly, almost brutally face-fucked, getting his hair pulled, and Walt doesn’t think he’s ever felt this in control and dominant in a sexual act. In fact the only thing Aaron has complained about is when Walt moaned his name.

He’d pulled back with a slippery smack, wiped his lips and said, “Call me Jesse.”

With everything else going on, Walt is fine with this minor compromise. It isn’t as if he hadn’t thought of Jesse in this position before. Jesse or Aaron or whatever he wants to be called deep-throating him now in reality is simply sublime.

This goes on for an unbelievably fantastic five or so minutes before Aaron pulls off again and Walt thinks he may have crossed a line when he’d said, “ _Oh yes_ , just like that, Jesse. Take me like a good, little bitch.”

But, Aaron digs out what looks like a slim bottle of lubricant. He uncaps the bottle and begins glazing the stuff on Walt’s prick.

“What’s that for?” Walt says.

He has a good idea but he honestly wasn’t ready for this.

Aaron smiles. “Look, I know you aren’t into men. I know you’ve never done anything like this before. Just think of every time you wanted to strangle Jesse, put somebody in there place, make them fucking listen and pay attention to you. You’re a fucking smart guy, Mr. White. Fuck Hank for making you feel like a pussy and Elliot for stealing your company and Skyler for kicking you out. Right now just fucking let it all out. Just fuck me, Mr. White.”

Walt has never felt more stroked in his life, both ego and cock simultaneously and Walt desperately scrambles to pull Aaron into his lap. But, Aaron has other plans, sinks down on his knees and raises up his ass and Walt is a little clumsy getting himself inside for the first thrust, but they pick up a rhythm quickly and the boy is tight and vocal and generously lifting his ass up for more. And he’s asking for it harder and rougher, asks to be bitten and scratched. Walt does it all, loving how he can be angry and amorous and loved for it. Aaron is moaning “ _Mr. White.Oh fuck, Mr. White_.” No one has called him that in bed and Walt is eating it up.

He’s biting into the most sensitive, receptive spot on Aaron’s neck when he comes inside of him all in one hot wave.

“ _Shit,”_ Aaron gasps.

And Walt can feel Aaron jerk himself off to completion with a few strokes before he collapses.

He snickers a little. “Asshole, you didn’t wait for me to finish.”

When Walt doesn’t know how to respond, Aaron waves behind himself.

“Just kidding. It was your first time. I’ll let it slide.”

He turns around on his back and leans up as if to kiss Walt and he pulls back and Aaron’s face absolutely crumbles. Walt is too sleepy and still moderately flattered enough to reconsider and place a chaste peck on the boy’s lips, another one, and another. Aaron looks absolutely smitten when Walt pulls back. Wordlessly there seems to be an arrangement forming between them.

And neither of them have any idea that Jesse Bruce Pinkman has been living Aaron’s life for three weeks now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm copying and pasting this from Tumblr, no additions or changing of my story. Also, 2015 me did not really understand what Postmates was.

Jesse slowly wakes up to this warmth all the fuck around him. The thing against his face feels way too soft to be his pillow and it for real feels like someone is like spooning him: heat lining the back of his body, hand on his chest, someone’s leg wedged between his. And part of his brain wants to be freaked out considering he passed out in his bed alone, but he’s still half asleep and there’s something else. It’s nice but he ain’t sure what it is.

Rubbing his cheek into the like cashmere or whatever that’s there, Jesse realizes this is the first time he’s woken up without that constant, low-thrum craving to get a hit of glass. It’s not there. He doesn’t feel so stressed out, muscles fucking loose and rubbery or some shit, and the air around him smells like musky body wash and citrus candles. He hasn’t felt this relaxed in a long fucking time, or at least not sober.

The person behind him kisses him on the cheek and slides off to go walk somewhere.

Now Jesse’s eyes do open ‘cause he wasn’t just imagining that whole spooning thing. And holy shit where the fuck is he? Who the fuck’s living room is this? Why in the fuck is it in the middle of the afternoon and why isn’t there any like desert or cactuses outside this giant motherfucking window in here?

The view outside has got palm trees and this like nice-ass backyard and he’s pretty sure he sees a legit orange tree too like with real fucking oranges you can eat like you’re in the grocery store. He walks closer to the window and he sees a reflection of himself and _what the fuck_ , he grew like a small beard and he’s not wearing a shirt and _yo_ , all his ink is fucking clear off his body.

He hears footsteps and flips around in this swank living room with paintings and shit on the walls and a fireplace like some sort of Martha Stewart set-up and Mr. White strolls in wearing dark jeans and a black V-neck and he’s smiling bigger than Jesse’s ever seen him.

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He says that like everything else is totally normal and Jesse didn’t just wake up in the Twilight Zone. Then he sits back down on the couch to put on some Puma sneakers. Where the fuck has Mr. White been keeping all these non-dorky clothes anyway? “I’m having dinner with my sister in Santa Monica. Shouldn’t be long. There’s still a couple of steaks left in the fridge and most of the lasagna if you want it. Do you need me to pick up anything while I’m out?”

Jesse’s crossing his hands across his chest, kind of covering himself and he’s like honest to god speechless.

At this point Bryan starts to notice that Aaron is acting weird. He raises an eyebrow and peers up. “Aaron, are you feeling okay?”

Jesse just opens his mouth and waves around himself like a moron. “ _Yo_ , when the fuck did you get hair, man? And shave? And get cool clothes? Where the _fuck_ are we, Mr. White?”

Bryan scratches at the side of his face, a little unnerved by how wholeheartedly Aaron is going into this performance, but he’s sort of tired of having to talk about this again. “Aaron, I thought you were going to respect my wishes. We agreed to drop it. I’m just not comfortable with this kind of role playing.”

Jesse rears back with his nose scrunched. “ _Gross_ , Mr. White. I ain’t comfortable with any kind of fucking role-playing with you or anything else with your dick. Just tell me where the fuck we are.”

And then it takes a lot more back and forth for Jesse to convince Bryan that he really is Jesse and not some dude named Aaron, and a little less time for Bryan to then inform Jesse that he is Bryan, an actor who plays Walter White on the television show, _Breaking Bad_. Some sort of details and secrets and such get exchanged to make this more legitimate (I have no clue what to be honest) and Bryan cancels his dinner and Jesse is pretty relieved that he isn’t on some weird LSD trip or dead or whatever.

That night, they have steaks and mashed potatoes around the kitchen island and Bryan tells Jesse about himself because Jesse is for real curious about this smiley, well-dressed, kind of more muscular version of Mr. White. They share some whiskey too and Bryan sets Aaron up in their bedroom and takes a guest room himself. Jesse definitely expresses some discomfort when Bryan turns down his bed for him and Jesse’s looking at a couple of framed photographs of Bryan and Aaron. There’s one of them with their foreheads touching on some sort of red carpet.

“I swear to god so much weird shit has happened in the past like five hours, I don’t even know what to get the most freaked about, you know?” I mean, like you tell me my whole fucking life is a TV show and I’m some actor from fucking Idaho, like wherever the hell that is, and I’m rich and live in this awesome house but I’m also”—he picks up the forehead nuzzling photo—“apparently fucking the guy who plays Mr. White and looks old enough to be my dad. Yo, did I lose some sort of bet?”

Bryan scoffs sarcastically as he fluffs the last pillow. “Did I not mention Aaron’s terrible gambling problem?”

Jesse’s face legit pales and Bryan laughs.

“I’m joking, Aaron—Jesse, sorry, Jesse.” He smiles. “It’s something I do from time to time. I’m not a chemistry teacher with a stick up his ass. I’m Bryan Cranston…and I’m going to let you get some sleep. If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall, alright?”

Jesse nods. “Yeah, whatever. Goodnight.”

Bryan’s at the door now. “Goodnight. I love you.” He seems to roll his eyes when Jesse scrunches his nose again. “Sorry. It’s a habit. Just”—he makes a vague gesture with his hand and chuckles—“Goodnight, Jesse.”

And Jesse has the best damn night of sleep since like he was a little kid ‘cause this mattress is dope as hell, like memory foam shit and the sheets are crazy comfortable. It’s not like quite as dope as when he woke up on the couch, but he’s not really sure why and just ignores it.

The next morning he’s too busy messing around with his steam room shower and picking out some nice-ass threads from a closet full of sneakers and cool t-shirts and well, the jeans are a little snug, but this Aaron guy’s got legit tastes in everything else so Jesse gives him a break on the jeans.

He finds Bryan in the kitchen looking like somebody’s fancy dad and Jesse feels a little sorry about saying Aaron lost a bet shacking up with the dude ‘cause it’s not like he’s ugly or anything. I mean, Jesse wouldn’t go around advertising it or nothing, but Mr. White’s not like a horrible-looking guy either. Maybe he’s jerked off and Mr. White’s face has like flashed in his brain a few times. And this Bryan guy is like Mr. White 2.0 and well…he’s sort of handsome or whatever.

Bryan makes him scrambled eggs with bacon and toast slathered in peanut butter, which is kind of weird but Aaron has apparently got a huge jones for stuff with peanut butter on it.

When Jesse’s done eating, Bryan hands over this glass little board thing and it lights up and Bryan teaches him how to use it and apparently this shit is called an iPad like an iPod but so much fucking better. You can go on the internet and do like whatever you’d do on a laptop but it has a touch screen and weighs about as much as a kitten. _Shit._

“I’m going to be gone for most of the day. I have some table reads, contract negotiations, that sort of thing. I probably won’t be back until seven or so. You gonna be okay here?” Bryan says.

Jesse nods, barely paying attention from his spot on the couch. “Yo, this is like some Jetson’s level shit.”

Bryan chuckles. “Perks of living in 2012, I guess.”

Jesse is sort of too overloaded with new shit to react much to hearing this, just kind of chuckles too and messes with his hair, hanging his head to one side.

“Course it’s 2012. Why the fuck not, you know? If I’m gonna get stuck in another dimension, might as well be three years in the future for no reason. Yo, I got a job or something I need to go to?”

“No, you’re between projects right now.”

Jesse pauses his game of Fruit Ninja, looking up. “So I’m rich and unemployed is what you’re saying?”

Bryan smiles. “We actors call it being ‘between projects.’ Sounds less pathetic that way. Though you do have a script upstairs Aaron was reading. I think it’s called ‘A Long Time Coming” or “A Long Way Down.” Anyway, if you think the iPad is nifty, wait and see this thing we call a Smart TV.”

And once he’s opened Jesse’s eyes to the world of Netflix and Hulu Plus and the Playboy Channel, he kind of jostles Jesse’s shoulder and pecks him on the cheek as he normally does when saying a quick goodbye to Aaron, though he quickly realizes his mistake and says sorry and repeats how it’s a habit.

Jesse scowls a little, already flipping through movies on Netflix. “Yeah, yeah, just like watch yourself, man. I don’t wanna like fucking wake up tonight, hearing you say “Sorry, just a habit” while you’re like balls deep inside me.”

“Oh,” Bryan says with a smirk. “So you know enough to guess you’re the bottom in our relationship?”

Before Jesse has enough time to say anything, Bryan flips him off and dashes out like a little punk kid and Jesse actually laughs ‘cause who the fuck is this guy?

He has a pretty lazy afternoon, explores the house and finds a stash of weed in his closet. He rolls up a joint and this shit is fucking fresh as hell, fancy California actor shit that probably cost a lot of fucking cheddar. And when he gets down to the nub, it’s totally weird not wanting to do something harder now. He still isn’t craving glass and its nice just getting high off one little joint and being totally satisfied, except he totally has the munchies now.

So he wanders into the kitchen and sees this advertisement magnet thing called Seamless with pictures of all this delicious food on it. He looks it up on his iPhone real quick ‘cause Bryan gave him one of those too and it’s kind of annoying ‘cause he’s only getting texts from some asshole named Twitter and he keeps calling Jesse a bitch over and over and saying he’s hot for some reason, but whatever, he’s got internet on his phone and it turns out you can order food on this Seamless shit and they deliver it to your fucking house.

He’s got an American Express in his wallet and an empty stomach so he orders some cheese burgers, curly fries, and a chocolate shake from one restaurant and some blueberry pancakes from another and some spaghetti with meatballs and bread sticks from a different one and also a whole basket of chocolate chip cookies from some fucking bakery that delivers and also some eclairs from there too and half a dozen glazed donuts.

And Bryan comes back to Jesse pigging out on the couch, surrounded by open plastic bags and containers, and his entire living room reeks of marijuana.

Jesse looks a little freaked at first, probably anticipating some sort of reprimanding but Bryan just smiles and grabs an éclair before heading upstairs to change into some sweats and a t-shirt.

He comes back and takes a seat, fishing out an untouched cheese burger from a Styrofoam take-out box, knowing full-well that heartburn lies in his future but this food smells too good to turn down. He even smokes a little weed with Jesse and slurps back some of his chocolate shake.

“I take it you had a good day?”

“Yeah, man,” Jesse says with a dopey smile. They’re watching _Pulp Fiction_. “Yo, how did your uh…like chair reading go?”

Bryan laughs. “You mean, my table reading? It was good. Do you…know what that is?”

Jesse shrugs and stuffs his mouth with fries before biting into a pancake that he’s holding with his bare hands. “Some like acting shit probably. Trust falls and doing coke off each others asses and stuff.”

“Only at the good table readings,” Bryan says.

They drift off into this comfortable silence and Jesse is still high enough to kind of lean into Bryan and he’s getting that same feeling he had when he first woke up here. Like he’s all warm and happy and shit. Bryan doesn’t move away, instead pushing his hair off his forehead in a way Jesse shouldn’t like, but totally does and Jesse kind of rolls/let’s himself roll into Bryan’s chest and they watch the movie like that kind of against each other. But like Jesse’s baked so it doesn’t count. He ain’t turning gay or whatever. It’s not like he’s gonna fuck the guy or something.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to take a second and clarify that this story is meant for fun and in no disrespect to the fictional versions of real people I'm playing around with :)

Jesse’s buzz pretty much wears off right around the time Bruce Willis gets out of that scary fucking pawn shop place with the redneck ass-raping fucks, and maybe that scene in _Pulp Fiction_ makes this dude-on-dude cuddling shit even weirder ‘cause Jesse tries to scoot over like as casually as he got himself into this.

Once he’s not touching Bryan anymore, the guy looks over as if he wants to ask Jesse if he’s okay and Jesse just shrugs and scratches the back of his neck like, “You were warm or whatever. Don’t come creeping into my room tonight or anything.”

Bryan holds his hands out in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And Jesse sleeps maybe a little better that night now that he’s used to the bed, and the next couple of days is a lot of the same: sleeping like a fucking baby with long naps and everything, eating his fill of like any kind of food he can think of (LA’s take-out game puts the ABQ to fucking shame), blazing here and there, then discovering a shit ton of new X-Box games and Marvel movies and also this thing called Candy Crush. But even all that stuff gets a little boring so he asks Bryan if they can go somewhere to see like that Hollywood Stars sidewalk or a cool retro diner like the one in _Pulp Fiction_ or like other dope, swanky places they have in all the movies and shit.

Bryan’s nice about it but he tells him that going to those places wouldn’t really be that fun ‘cause they’d be surrounded by people asking for pictures and autographs, which wouldn’t be too bad except Jesse has no clue how to act like Aaron. It’s best to stay low until they figure this out, Bryan says. Neither of them have any idea how long Jesse is going to be here and Bryan thinks they should have Jesse ease into things slowly. It’s a smart idea so Jesse doesn’t argue. He does shave his beard though ‘cause it gets too itchy, and he thinks about getting his scorpion re-tatted on his wrist, but figures that would fuck Aaron over if he didn’t like it.

One morning, he wakes up for no real reason at like seven AM and finds Bryan stretching in some gym shorts and a t-shirt and sneakers downstairs. Jesse hasn’t been on a run since freshman gym class but he ends up asking to come along with Bryan anyway. It’s actually a little chilly outside since it’s just early spring and Jesse ain’t used to wearing shorts that come up above his knees but it’s weird as hell how his body can keep up with Bryan. He’s actually fucking running pretty fast. They’ve gone eight or so blocks and Jesse feels like strong and not like out of breath at all, smelling the fresh air and feeling his muscles flex and stretch and he’s so damn happy he could be in a fucking Gatorade commercial.

They go all the way to some park nearby and like _seriously_ Jesse’s lungs feel like they work better than they have in a while. It’s not like Aaron doesn’t smoke ‘cause he found the guy’s lighters around the house and there’s an ashtray on the back patio area. Maybe Aaron started later or something, but the guy’s body totally still craves one after dinner. Sometimes Bryan will join him as they have a nightcap, which is Bryan’s way of saying ‘have a drink before bed.’ Jesse’s never heard of that word in a way to like describe booze but it’s old fashioned in a way that Jesse likes for some reason but wouldn’t let anyone know, like going crazy over fancy soap in a bathroom.

Still, it’s nice sharing a drink with the guy and hearing about his childhood and funny audition stories and sometimes sharing a cigarette ‘cause Bryan doesn’t want a whole one. And shit if the guy doesn’t look like he walked out of some classy movie when he takes a pull, like hard jawline and easy going but also like confident with the way he talks with his hands and smiles. He looks like he could be in one of those movies from the ‘60s his mom used to watch all the time when guys wore suits to the airport and read newspapers in taxi cabs.

It’s almost un-fucking-fair how like (and Jesse’s almost blushing just thinking it and ducking down in his seat), but the dude looks just all kinds of sophisticated as fuck driving his dark green Aston Martin convertible from the ‘70s. They start cruising around in the evenings with the top down ‘cause Jesse’s never been to L.A. before and Bryan shows him the sights. They go by some beaches and all kinds of cool shit and maybe when they’re just passing shops and shit, Jesse spends a little too much time looking at Bryan behind the wheel.

He cracks this like goony-looking smirk. “It’s not me. Everybody looks impressive in this car. You want to drive the way back?”

Jesse can’t fucking believe Bryan is trusting him with this fancy-ass car, but he totally takes him up on it. They’ve only switched seats for maybe ten minutes when this group of like forty-year-old cougars in heels whistles at Aaron when they stop at a red light. And then it’s like they’re all yelling at once for him to call them bitches and Bryan has prepped him so he knows what to do.

He smiles and waves. “You are all a bunch of beautiful bitches.” And then he sprinkles in, “I love you too” and “Thank you, oh you’re so sweet” and stuff like that until the light’s green. He waves again with a big smile until they can’t see him anymore.

“I know you said it was okay, but it’s still like freaky as hell just calling these chicks I don’t know bitches and them like fawning all over me like I’m quoting _Romeo and Juliet_ or some shit.” Jesse smiles. “Guess it’s just the car, right?”

“No.” Bryan looks at him a little funny as they pull onto the freeway. “If anything you’re out of this car’s league.”

Jesse’s pretty sure he blushes at that, but there’s like barely any cars on the road for a whole five seconds and Jesse speeds up just for shits. “This car runs dope as fuck.”

And Bryan laughs, giving him directions to this place out of the city away from traffic where Jesse can whip down these windy roads like they’re on a fucking roller coaster. They don’t get home until after midnight and Jesse’s face feels like cracked from the wind or some shit but in a nice way.

Two days later, he gets to go out again, this time without Bryan. Aaron’s friends had invited him to see Arcade Fire months ago and Bryan thinks its okay for Jesse to go since the music will be so loud and everyone will be drinking. The dude feeds him some kind of scripts to say to fans and how like if anyone asks about the new season just look all “aww shucks” and smile and be like “Wish I could tell you, bro, but even I don’t know,” which apparently is the truth. Aaron’s really into Arcade Fire and like charities and the environment and pizza. Jesse feels like he’s studying for a test but he’s excited anyway.

Bryan teaches him how to use this taxi thing called Uber and an hour or so later Aaron is in a huge mass of people with Boone from _Lost_ and his hot-ass girlfriend who’s on that _Twilight_ bullshit show with him. Jesse’s seen like a commercial or two, but they’re really nice in real life. They all take turns buying rounds and this really ain’t Jesse’s kind of music, but some pretty freaky stuff with costumes and lights happens on stage so it’s not like he’s bored.

When it’s his turn to get drinks, he has to wait at the bar for a while which turns into like a photo shoot of girls coming up to him, dudes too, but mostly chicks asking for autographs and hugs and pictures on their phones. He loses count of how many of them say shit like “ _Oh my gosh_ , I’m totally in love with Jesse. He’s so sweet and like broken. I just want to wrap him up and hug him.” Like _holy shit_ all these chicks apparently want to like take care of him and have his babies. Jesse can’t understand why this Aaron guy has so much hot ass all around him and he chose some old dude to date.

But after the concert and a club where Jesse danced and didn’t have to talk much and tried not to stare at Hot Vampire Chick’s tits, he got another Uber ride home and found that old dude waiting up for him at almost four in the morning with a giant stack of banana pancakes and big bottle of Gatorade. He claps Jesse on the back and wants to hear all about his night and kind of picks at his plate. And Jesse thinks Aaron might be a smarter guy than he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

The next night is a Saturday and Bryan takes Jesse to like the nicest fucking restaurant he’s ever seen. Like, Jesse feels like he shouldn’t be allowed to breathe in here let alone eat the best fucking lasagna of his life with like cheeses he’s never heard of and these delicious pasta layers and this tomato sauce that’s not too sweet but thick and warm. They get a table in the back and nobody really bothers them and they sip some kind of red wine Jesse can’t pronounce. Bryan can actually speak a little bit of Italian and Jesse lets the guy go on and on about his trip to Venice with his brother, which turns into another cross-country story, and honestly Jesse likes listening to the dude. By the time he’s biting into a creamy spoonful of tiramisu, Jesse basically creams his pants and it’s one of the best meals of his damn life.

Maybe the meal is too good ‘cause karma seems to want to fuck with him, giving him this nightmare where somebody’s clawing thick lines of blood into his face and neck and that little kid from the junkie’s house is calling out to him and Jane and Emilio too. Even that fuck-face Tuco is climbing out from the ground and he grabs Jesse by the shoulders, shaking him until Jesse realizes Bryan is there with this super concerned look on his face.

“It’s just a dream. You’re okay, Jesse.” He rubs the tops of Jesse’s shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.”

Jesse’s already crying, like he probably was doing it in his sleep, and he pulls Bryan in ‘cause he hasn’t had anybody around after a bad dream in way too long. And Bryan fucking wraps his arms around him like this big, solid warm thing and makes a bunch of like comforting “Shh” sounds and Jesse’s too drained from the nightmare not to soak all this in the way his body wants to.

He hugs Bryan tighter, shaking. “Can…can you stay here? _Please_? Like, don’t… _don’t_ go.”

“Of course,” Bryan whispers. “I’m right here, Jesse. You’re safe, alright? I’m staying right here.”

Jesse feels another sob crack out of his chest but Bryan doesn’t go anywhere, not even after Jesse’s not crying anymore and Bryan sort of lays him back down on the bed, gives Jesse his space like a fucking gentleman. But, Jesse’s not having any of that and just like lunges for the guy and holds on and he doesn’t care at all how somebody else would see this shit. It feels fucking good getting held and Bryan’s tall and warm and smells like a pumpkin fucking pie and aftershave and maybe lotion too. And soon enough, they’re totally spooning with the blankets fluffy and thick around them. Jesse even holds onto one of Bryan’s hands as he falls asleep just to make sure he doesn’t leave.

Then it’s like that for a week, like Bryan starts sleeping in his room. Jesse guesses it’s technically _their_ room so like it just makes sense for the dude to be in his own bed and not a guest room. The nightmares go away too, and Jesse gets that feeling again like when he first woke up here. He can’t like name it or really describe it all that well. He just feels…safe…and like…loved.

It’s a thought he doesn’t try to like obsess over or anything and he gets a pretty good distraction that Friday when he and Bryan have this charity benefit dinner thing to protect like the whales or something. All Jesse knows is he gets to wear a suit for it. He actually got to pick one out of a sick-ass selection. He went classic.

“Nice choice,” Bryan says, fixing his own tie in the bathroom mirror.

“Hells yeah. I look like James fucking Bond in this tux. _Damn_ ,” Jesse says. “I look fine as shit.”

Bryan smiles. “Certainly can’t argue there.”

Jesse must have already broken a record or something, but he fucking blushes just a little again as he passes a hand over his jaw. “Yo, do you think I should shave?”

Bryan shrugs and pulls his coat on. “Stubble suits you. And it’s very ‘in’ with young Hollywood. I say keep it.”

“Right on,” Jesse says a little absently.

He watches Bryan walk away in the mirror and he’d be a fucking liar if he didn’t admit that the dude’s ass looks like especially dope in those like black tailored slacks.

The next two hours is a fucking cluster fuck if Jesse’s sticking with this whole honesty thing. ‘Cause first he’s freaking out about the limo, sipping champagne in…a…fucking... _limo_ , and then there’s this red carpet shit where everybody is trying to take your picture at the same time and some publicist chick with an ear piece is telling you when and when you can’t go and how like Jessica Biel is gonna go in front of you know, you’re next but then Gwen Stefani is cutting in line and Jesse didn’t think he’d be a stark struck nerd but like _holy shit_ he’s never seen this many hot people in one place like ever.

Once the camera flashing shit is over, they start to walk in the actual gala or whatever and Bryan holds his hand before dropping it real fast.

“Should we,” Jesse says. “Since you know, you’re like my…boyfriend or whatever and we’re in public.”

Bryan seems to think it over. “It’s honestly up to you. I wouldn’t ever want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

It seems like a pretty simple thing for somebody to say, but Jesse hasn’t had that option in a long fucking time. The past couple of years he’s felt pretty jerked around. Hearing Bryan say all that actually makes Jesse like maybe tear up a little. But instead of being a fucking pussy about it, he just holds the guy’s hand and smiles.

And it’s pretty chill through the like horsderves, which is a fancy word for giant-ass plates of these tiny balls of crab meat wrapped in bacon and little, one-bite steaks and shrimp covered in teriyaki sauce, and like for something so fancy it’s kind of weird that they serve food like they’re all playing dollhouse or some shit. But, he just eats politely like with a napkin and doesn’t drink too much and basically follows Bryan around like a baby fucking duck ‘cause no way is he gonna be by himself in this giant white lobby with sparkly fucking chandeliers and breakable wine glasses everywhere.

He’s pretty sure he sees the lead singer dude from Maroon 5 chatting with Conan O’ Brien when he spots a familiar head of gorgeous black hair, slim pale shoulders, and her mouth quirked up like it used to but with a darker shade of lipstick.

It’s Jane.

He can’t fucking move. He can’t blink. He can’t swallow.

She’s alive.

And she’s walking over to him, smiling real big like she’s not a radiant, fucking ghost.

“Aaron, it is so good to see you,” she says. She hugs him. “How have you been? I don’t think we’ve talked since Coachella.”

Jesse feels a tremor start at his spine and spread out to every never ending in his body, limbs going from like numb to awake in a painful way like when you sleep on your arm wrong. He’s nauseous and fucking overwhelmed feeling her soft hair on his face and her arms around him. He really doesn’t want to fucking cry right now, but like his eyes start to water anyway.

He hasn’t said anything but cough a little and she pulls away with a puzzled smile until she sees his face and she’s touching his arm.

“Aaron, what’s wrong?”

“You’re,” he says—making that kind of deep inhale like when you just know you’re about to fucking fall apart—“You’re here.”

And thank god before he can embarrass himself anymore, Jesse feels those big, comforting hands on the backs of his shoulders and he hears Bryan say something or other about too much champagne in the limo and a joke about Aaron’s sensitive soul being triggered by a script he’s been reading, how he’s been a little gloomy lately. Then Bryan like escorts Jesse to a private men’s restroom and Jesse just loses it completely, sobbing even harder than he had when Bryan woke him up from that nightmare, and Bryan’s here to see him through it again.

The dude waits it out for like ten whole minutes or maybe longer and gets him tissues and they have fucking bottled water in here so Bryan gets him one of those too. When Jesse’s all cried out, Bryan holds him again with a hand in Jesse’s hair.

“I get it, Bryan,” Jesse says. His pulse is evening out and shit and he feels kind of humiliated about everything. “Like I understand now that it…wasn’t really her.” He sniffs and tries to keep his words from sounding too watery. “But like…it’s sort of…nice thinking like somewhere…she’s still alive, you know? That she’s okay.”

“Absolutely,” Bryan says. He runs his nails across Jesse’s scalp in a nice tingly way.

“Can we get out of here?”

And Bryan repeats his “Absolutely” with no hesitation or nothing. Bryan just has to talk to some people about a donation and they’re home pretty soon after that and Jesse ain’t barely letting the guy get off the couch with the way he’s holding on ‘cause he still feels like someone vacuumed up all his insides and then dumped them back in with a whole bunch of like dust bunnies too. He’s like clinging to the dude as they watch TV until Bryan has to literally pry Jesse’s fingers from his lapels because Bryan is just going to take a quick shower.

It takes Bryan several assertions that he won’t be long before Jesse finally lets go and Bryan is quick to shed his suit in their bedroom and hang it up before hopping into the shower. He lets the hot water roll off his shoulder blades, soak his hair, bathe his face in warmth. And he understands Jesse is a guppy out of water and that he’s the boy’s only confidant in the here and now, but he hasn’t left him alone for hardly a second for the greater part of a week. Bryan hasn’t made love to Aaron in weeks and its heartbreaking as much as it is physically exhausting and frustrating.

And while it would be one thing if Aaron were out of town, it’s a whole other animal of deprivation and self-control to have Jesse in Aaron’s body so close. They’re sharing the same bed and Bryan still can’t touch him the way he really wants. Bryan doesn’t want to be selfish, but there’s only so much he can take.

Take advantage is certainly what he’s going to do with this rare moment of solitude as he slides his hand down to his already hardening cock. Stroking himself feels incredibly delicious and he allows himself one indulgent moan before he shuts his lips tight, not wanting to alarm Jesse if were to happen to pass by the bedroom. He feels almost ridiculous masturbating in secret like this. Hell, he and Aaron have spent many evenings watching each other jerk off in slow caresses with hungry eyes, waiting to see who the first one would be to break and reach out for what tended to be passionate and sloppy reciprocation.

Bryan would readily admit he’s so-to-speak lost that endurance game on several occasions. And even thinking about it now helps him swell up until he’s pulsing and fully erect. An image of Aaron bare underneath him, rolling his hips up, taking Bryan so good and deep in bliss trickles into his mind like the water on his chest. Bryan’s sudsy hand is a cheap substitute, but he can still almost imagine Aaron tight around his cock. And he can feel himself ready to orgasm, endorphins and blood pumping away. He tugs himself faster as he shuts his eyes, not seeing Jesse’s silhouette from the other side of the glass or the tremor in his hand as he opens the door. 


	5. Chapter 5

It’s like the exact second Jesse hears the water running, every instinct in him is telling him to follow the sound. And he actually straight-up does: switches off the TV, pads up the stairs, and slips into their master bedroom. Taking his tux off one layer at a time, Jesse feels like a baby duck again, like he can’t go a second without Bryan and now he’s sort of like following him right into the pond.

He ain’t even sure if that made sense, but he finally tugs off his black dress socks and thinks he might be more like Badger’s weird-ass, big, orange cat who likes to nose the bathroom door open and like watch you trying to take a piss or tilt it’s head to the side as it stares at you through the shower curtain. Jesse’s not here to stare or nothing. It’s just the dude’s been so nice to him like way above and beyond and Jesse hasn’t really done anything to thank the guy. And yeah, there’s definitely a whole lot of curiosity about this kind of shit too, like the kind that’s making Jesse’s prick twitch between his legs as the hairs on his arms stick up.

Then Jesse’s toeing his way into the bathroom, stepping kind of quiet so he doesn’t freak Bryan out. He hesitates ‘cause he’s not sure if he should like announce he’s there or knock, but he decides to just open the frosted glass door of the shower.

Holy shit.

This is sort of more than Jesse was expecting.

Like, he knew Bryan was gonna be naked in here ‘cause like duh, he’s in the shower. But, Jesse isn’t at all prepared to see Bryan’s hand gripped tight around this big, meaty-looking bastard of a cock.

“Jesse,” Bryan says with an ‘ _Oh shit_!’ kind of face and shields his dick.

Bryan almost wants to cry at how close he was to coming. His body feels as if it was interrupted from a much needed, explosive sneeze and his balls ache painfully at the sudden interruption: Jesse standing there naked with his mouth open and the cool air whipping in to mingle menacingly with the steam. He’s actually so preoccupied with this onset of blue balls that he only notices Jesse’s inside the shower with him once the door is clinked shut.

In the very next second, Jesse has his fingers around Bryan’s wrist and removes the make-shift covering of his loins to effectively expose Bryan again. He seems to give Bryan’s crotch a concentrated look before reaching a shaky hand out to cup him.

Bryan shuts his eyes for a second, sucking in his stomach with how deeply he inhales, and Jesse’s hesitant touch feels wonderful and warm. It takes everything in him to speak up because this isn’t right.

“Jesse,” Bryan says. He takes a slippery step back. Jesse follows. So he takes another. Jesse follows again. And Bryan can feel his shoulder blades pressed into the wet tiles as Jesse steps up close enough for their knees to brush up against each other. “This isn’t necessary. I know you don’t know me very well…but I do know you. And you don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to”—

Bryan simply can’t speak anymore when Jesse glides his hand up and down Bryan’s impossibly hard cock. It feels too good, been too long, and he’s too close from before to stop what is clearly a violation on Bryan’s part. Jesse is emotionally raw right now and even standing here and receiving this is like sticking his finger in Jesse’s deep wound of abandonment. But Jesse hasn’t stopped stroking him and all Bryan can do is surrender up his prick for whatever Jesse wants.

And while there’s little to no technique, Jesse’s paying a lot of attention to the head, thumbing at his slit, pumping his hand a smidge too gently in a way that lets Bryan know he’s never done this to anyone but himself.

“ _Good_ ,” Bryan moans. With his head tipped back a little against the wall, he can clearly see Jesse’s face light up with pride. He wants Jesse to get something out of this regardless of how unwise their actions are, and praise seems to be a solid choice here. “That’s good, Jesse. So good. Making me feel _so_ good.”

Jesse looks so glowingly ecstatic it’s no wonder Vince’s scripts have so many parallels between Jesse and puppies. Because beneath the drug addiction and the apathy, there’s a boy who just wants to a pat on the head and told he’s doing a good job.

But maybe the puppy metaphor should end there for decency’s sake because Bryan groans out, “ _Good_ ” once more and sees Jesse’s cock twitch, perhaps wag if someone wanted to look at it that way. And Bryan is really going out on a dangerous limb here, but he cautiously stretches his hand down and caresses the stiffening length. If this is going to happen, Jesse might as well have the opportunity to get off too.

And Bryan’s fears quickly fade as Jesse parts his thighs wider, eyelids drooping as he stands on his tiptoes and humps Bryan’s palm.

“ _Good_ ,” Bryan says, feeling his own cock trickle over Jesse’s knuckles.

Jesse moans, eyes fluttering shut, and Bryan leans down to press the faintest of kisses on his lips. Before he can lean back, Jesse hooks a hand around the back of Bryan’s neck and pulls him down low enough to press their mouths deeper together. Bryan feels a slick probing flutter against his bottom lip and he opens eager and wide as Jesse’s tongue licks its way inside. It’s almost a little startling kissing someone who looks so much like Aaron yet does so in a way all of his own. While Aaron starts slower with long, languid, uninterrupted kisses, Jesse’s are more of a quick serious of them and with much more tongue and he’s making these humming sounds that are driving Bryan crazy.

_Oh shit_ Jesse can’t believe how good it feels to kiss Bryan, not having to pretend to like any of this shit ‘cause the guy knows how to kiss almost as much he knows his way around a cock. ‘Cause holy shit the dude is jerking him with the kind of squeeze-stroke combo that’s like Jesse’s exact fucking go-to whenever he jacks off. Though it feels ten times better having someone else do it for him, and there’s even like a weird appeal to the hand being pretty big and shit.

They’re full-on fucking making out in the shower now and grinding into each others fists, and Jesse thinks he’d be okay if they kept going, like even going farther than hand jobs.

He’s not really sure how to start shit like that so he pulls away and kind of turns around before rubbing his ass back against the guy’s prick.

Bryan gasps. “What are you doing?”

Jesse pretends like he’s not totally embarrassed. “What’s it look like? You want to fuck or not?”

Even if it’s said with a defensive bite to it, Bryan wants nothing more than to cinch his hands around Jesse’s hips and thrust hard into him. But, Jesse isn’t ready for that, emotionally or physically. However, Bryan isn’t a good enough man to turn him down entirely so he rotates the boy to face him again, lines up their pricks and begins to tug on them tightly together.

“How’s this?” Bryan says.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jesse moans, immediately rolling his hips. He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “Feels pretty homo…but awesome…like, _real_ fucking awesome.”

Jesse only sort of hear Bryan snort, kind of too like preoccupied with how bomb it feels to have another dude’s cock flush up against his, rubbing against it hard, and this is like those pornos he watches when girls rub their clits together. If he knew this shit felt so good maybe he would have tried it sooner. There’s something kind of hot about them having the same parts and rutting them together dick-to-dick for an orgasm. Shit, he’s probably gonna have Bryan’s jizz on his prick.

That sends like a pulse from like the root to tip and he shudders all the fuck over, humping into Bryan’s open hands and into his dick even harder, and Bryan is thrusting back too and they ain’t even kissing anymore just like moaning and shit.

Bryan leans down further to really drive into Jesse’s desperately eager little humps and it’s interesting how much breathier Jesse is than Aaron, voice a tad higher, panting more. But Bryan can still see the tell-tale signals of the boy’s orgasm as his eyebrows pinch together, mouth going slack and Bryan feels a thick spurt on his cock and stomach. He only needs to grind into that twice more before he’s coming as well. And getting delayed on the very brink from before makes his orgasm all the more intense and heady and strong.

They’re still gently rocking into each other once it’s over and Bryan has to steady himself with a hand on Jesse’s forearm before Bryan passes out. He shuts the water off instead, steps out with Jesse behind him and begins toweling the boy off.

Jesse’s like first instinct is to be all “ _Yo_ , man. I can dry myself off. I ain’t five.” But then this shit feels like almost as good as coming did so he just shuts the fuck up and lets himself get patted all over in this super nice towel, hugged with him inside of it like he’s a little kid in a fabric softener commercial, and Bryan kisses him again.

They make it back to the bed once they’re both dry and get under the covers with Jesse choosing to slip on a clean bear of drawers and Bryan gets on some briefs. It’s almost spooky how Jesse’s body knows how to fit into Bryan’s with his face against his chest. He’d call it like autopilot except he’s totally enjoying everything too.

Jesse feels sort of weird, but he thumbs at the guy’s chest a little, snuggling more. “Yo, that uh…felt really awesome.”

Bryan turns on his side with a grin that makes Jesse basically fucking melt like a total sap. “I’d say so too.”

Jesse chuckles a little, planting a kiss on the guy’s jaw and he gets one on his neck then his chest and then Bryan is dipping down even lower. Before Jesse even knows what’s going on, Bryan purses his lips and like exhales a big mouthful of air against Jesse’s stomach.

The dude just blew him a fucking raspberry.

He does it again and it fucking tickles and Jesse just busts out laughing, like way down from the deepest parts of his lunges. Never in his life did he ever think he’d get a raspberry after sex. This guys is such a total fucking weirdo and Jesse kind of fucking loves it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Aaron can’t help thinking how weird it feels being in Saul’s office without all of the cameras and crew. It’s late in the afternoon with the day’s cook out of the way and a hookup meeting with Mr. White in about an hour, so Aaron doesn’t have much time for Saul’s jokes and not so discreet probing into why Aaron’s asking for more of his money. But, after several indignant (he’s being Jesse after all) assurances that he’s not back on drugs, Saul forks over a small duffle bag of bills.

When Aaron reaches for it with Jesse’s trademark about-damn-time expression, his military jacket must slide a little off his shoulder because Saul is wearing shock as loudly as his checkered suit. 

“ _Holy mother of Jesus_! Kid, is that thing on your neck a hickey or a scar from some sort of crackhead suture job?”

Aaron runs his hand over one of the most recent bites from Mr. White, and maybe it’s fucked up, but he can almost feel himself getting hard thinking how amazing this particular orgasm had been. It’s an easy one to remember because it was the first time they had sex face to face as Mr. White fucking pummeled into him in Jesse’s bed. 

“Yo, it ain’t my fault your ass can’t get laid,” Aaron says.

He fishes out a cigarette from his back pocket, slipping it into his mouth, and waving like a disinterested little snot at Saul because Aaron doesn’t really want to get into this. He knows he shouldn’t. Saul would probably have a damn heart attack hearing his marriage counseling sort of worked out.

“Whatever you say kid. Just don’t come running to me if that ‘token of affection’ gets you a hankering for brains if you know what I mean.” Saul idly fingers his Malibu Barbie pink tie.

Aaron just lights up and rolls his eyes, while his brain jumps from Malibu to California to Bryan and how he really misses him even though Aaron has sort of spent every day with Bryan. But he’s convinced himself this universe shift isn’t permanent. He reasons that this will run its course and he’ll eventually be home as Aaron Paul again. There’s no reason to worry. He can’t do anything about it so why get anxious over things he can’t control?

Sucking back on his cigarette, he leaves Saul’s office, hops into his car and heads off to do something he actually can control.

It’s about a fifteen minute drive until he’s maneuvering his way into a pretty sketchy neighborhood. And these aren’t the kind of seedy streets Hollywood’s rubbed some dirt and graffiti onto for filming purposes. These houses are falling apart and there’s a couple of guys in baggy clothes shooting the shit a couple blocks down, mean-mugging Aaron, but he drives up to Andrea’s mailbox and slots the envelope inside before sealing the box shut with a creaky clank.

The thing’s so loud, he can see her door open from his rear-view mirror, which is a relief since he knows she’ll get the cash he dropped off. Just because he’s not sleeping with Andrea doesn’t mean he can’t help her and Brock out. Yeah, they’re fictional characters and everything. But as long as Aaron is here, he wants to help out.

—————–  
Walt lets his head softly drop back against the wall. He’s sitting in the middle of his sofa, bare from the waist down where Aaron is straddling him. The boy is wearing nothing but Walt’s marks. His slim, pale body is spotted in bruises in a multitude of shades of healing, bites in a variety of severity, and Aaron had begged for every single one. 

Currently he’s ridding Walt’s cock. Aaron is lifting himself up and down intensely enough for Walt’s prick to become withdrawn completely before Aaron once again skewers himself in shouted, frenzied rapture. Aaron’s balls are slapping against Walt’s, ass making impressively slick sounds as Walt becomes almost hypnotized watching himself enter the boy again and again and again. Every fourth thrust or so, Aaron will clamp onto Walt’s shoulder and grind himself balls-deep back and forth. Walt can feel the malleable tissue of the boy’s prostate but stays still, loving how hard Aaron works to come. 

He simply lies back and grabs the boy’s ass, getting showered in praises of “Oh _fuck_ , _Mr. White_. You feel so thick. _Mr. White_ , feel _so_ fucking good.”

It’s only when the boy begins to shake and desperately gasp, “B-bite, Mr. White. Come on, right on my fucking neck again,” that Walt jolts up and snaps his teeth into the already mangled and flushed flesh of Aaron’s throat. 

Walt seizes a strong fist around the back of the boy’s thigh for good measure as he feels the now familiar wet expelling release on his abdomen.

“ _Mr. White_ ,” Aaron nearly shouts.

And in the ensuing clenches of the boy’s ass, Walt picks a fresh spot on Aaron’s chest to bite into as he keeps the boy still and comes thick and messy inside of him. 

“Clean me up, Jesse,” Walt says even as he’s breathing raggedly.

Aaron takes a few shuddering seconds to collect himself before pulling off and leaning down to happily lick his own come from Walt’s chest. It both feels good and is simply gorgeous to watch and Walt isn’t sure if he’s ever met someone so adventurous in bed before. 

Once Aaron has indeed cleaned Walt up like a good boy, he’s sipping on a beer and Walt stands and takes his folded slacks from the arm of the couch and begins pulling them up his legs.

“You know this is your apartment, right?” Aaron says. “Where are you going?”

Walt buckles his belt and bends down for his socks. “I’m eating dinner with my family. I…uh, had a calm discussion with Skyler about wanting to see Junior once a week, said the things you advised me to…and it worked. Thank you.”

Aaron wants to laugh at how Mr. White basically threw that thanks over his shoulder super quick while not making eye contact. But Aaron knows the dude pretty well, and he knows it’s pretty beyond himself to change him. He’d need who knows how many years for that. It’s still a little lonely getting kicked out right after sex all the time. He hasn’t been held in weeks.

“You sure you can’t hang out for a little bit? Have a beer with me, man?” 

Walt just shakes his head as he stands back up with his Wallabees on. Maybe Aaron frowns a little too much because the guy actually bends down and kisses Aaron. And it’s not just a peck either, but a slow, soft exchange with just the right amount of tongue and a hand gently cradling Aaron’s jaw. It’s fucking gentle and makes Aaron dizzy and he just knows it means Mr. White wants to fuck again tonight. Aaron isn’t an idiot. He knows when he’s getting buttered up.

“I’m sorry,” Walt says. He grabs his jacket. “By all means, you have every right to wait until I come back. Order yourself a pizza, on me.”

The guy smiles and Aaron really has to hold back the snort he wants to make around the sip of beer he’s working on.

Walt raises his hands in surrender. “I want to stay but I simply can’t be in two places at once.”

“Holy shit,” Aaron says.

He actually chokes a little on his Heineken. Well, enough to set the bottle down and cover his mouth and Mr. White looks concerned. Okay, Aaron is coughing a lot. But, just, _holy shit_.

Aaron wipes his mouth, feeling queasy. “Say that again.”

“What?” Mr. White frowns. “I can’t be in two places at once?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Aaron sort of yells. He presses his hand into his forehead. “Shit, are you not getting this? If I’m here…that means I’m not… _there_. I’m not in my world! I’m missing. Or”—Aaron feels a whole new wave of nausea come over him—“Jesse is… _there_.”

He just sits silent for a minute, feeling even more like an idiot when Walt raises an eyebrow and for sure looks at him like Aaron just spelled opossum wrong or something.

“You hadn’t put that together yet? I assumed that was common knowledge.”

Aaron balks. “So you’re telling me you’re completely okay with Jesse Pinkman like running amok in Los Angeles with all my cars and money.”

Mr. White shrugs as he tugs on his jacket. “Isn’t Bryan there?”

Aaron clutches his chest as he takes a deep breath. “ _Bryan_. Right, of course.” 

He’s suddenly not picturing all his hard earned cash spent on a 24/7 strip club party at his house. Plus, this is third season Jesse who is living in his place. The guy has matured a lot. Aaron should cut the dude some slack. 

“I’m leaving my credit card here. Order as much pizza as you’d like. I should be back in two hours or so.”

Mr. White leans in for another wet, tender, manipulative as fuck kiss and Aaron nips at the guy’s bottom lip as he pulls away.

“Have a good dinner, man. See you soon.” 

Aaron watches Mr. White nod and head off before he gets dressed again and calls for an extra-large pepperoni with dipping sticks. He switches on the T.V. with a fresh beer. And he hopes Bryan can handle Jesse. Aaron knows better than almost anybody how much of a handful Jesse can be. 

Raising his Guinness in a toast, Aaron silently wishes Bryan the best of luck. He hopes Jesse is having a good time with Bryan too. He knows Jesse deserves a little peace and quiet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty dang filthy. 2015 me was...something.

Jesse wakes up stretched out on his back with the covers kicked down to his shins and his prick’s real stiff. It would be a totally normal morning except there’s a warm, wet tongue slithering down the underside of his shaft.

He sucks in a breath and blinks down to see that while he was passed out, Bryan weaseled his cock free from the flap of his boxers and the guy’s got his mouth open wide and hot around him, charming sort of twinkle in his eye as he lowers down about half way and pulls up enough to suck around the head. Bryan’s hand is gripping the hilt, base of his palm rolling into Jesse’s balls, and he’s blowing him just right.

“Fuck, _Bryan_ ,” Jesse groans out.

The dude swirls his tongue, lapping and suctioning him in harder with his mouth. Jesse can feel himself start to like twitch all over and fuck it if this ain’t the best blow job he’s maybe had ever and he’s kind of always super sensitive in the mornings. But, like this shit is different and Jesse can tell he’s about ten seconds from already blowing his load.

He desperately reaches out to touch Bryan just as the guy bobs his head up and once Jesse touches his hair it’s like he has to hold on to it. And he ain’t rough or anything, just like digs his fingers in a little until his fingertips are against his scalp. Bryan’s not complaining either, starts taken even deeper and stronger pulls around Jesse’s cock.

“ _Bryan_ …gonna _come_ ,” Jesse moans.

The dude just keeps suckling away as Jesse keeps Bryan’s head still and comes right in his mouth, tipping deeper into that soaking warmth, fucking loving the way the guy keeps licking until Jesse’s totally clean.

Jesse feels kind of like a brat, but even after getting fucking awesome head, he’s still pretty fuck-ton nervous about returning the favor. But like he’s psyching himself up and shit when Bryan just wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smiles, and stands up.

“Good morning.”

The dude’s voice is somehow even fucking deeper in the mornings, like gruff with sleep, makes Jesse think of stubble but like the morning stubble of some business guy who uses one of those old school shaving cream brushes and drinks his coffee black. Bryan is just all nonchalant scratching at his chest hair and looking through his closet in a pair of briefs and his hair is a little messy in the back. Jesse’s sort of totally into this guy and it might be a little fucking embarrassing.

Jesse leans up on an elbow and smiles. “Yo, good morning.”

He’s thinking of something like sexy or whatever to say to get Bryan back into bed but then the guy is going about his business, getting ready for another full day of acting shit. It’s like he doesn’t expect nothing in return and Jesse’s chest almost hurts thinking how Bryan just wanted to blow him to make him feel good. He feels sort of shitty too ‘cause he can’t even pay the dude back that night ‘cause Bryan has to fly to New York for a whole three day work thing.

It’s pretty lonely or whatever in the house without him but Jesse keeps busy catching up on a lot of the dope movies that came out in the past three years and taking jogs around that park Bryan showed him and he even goes clubbing with Ian and his girlfriend Nina and some other people who all played with their phones whenever they weren’t dancing. He already explored the house but like not every drawer and cabinet and shit, which he ends up doing on day three. Sliding open one of the bedside drawers, he finds this blue butt plug and a tall bottle of lube.

He leaves it for a total of like five minutes before walking back up the stairs and taking it out again. He’s only used one of these things once and he was real fucked up on glass while this chick rode him. It’s a pretty blurry memory. And Jesse’s heard stuff about like anal training, thinks that if Bryan’s ever gonna get laid again Jesse might as well make it easier on the both of them.

So he closes all the fucking curtains, turns off most of the lights and only undresses from the waist down. With lube on a couple of his fingers, he plays with the outside before slipping just one inside. This doesn’t really feel like anything so he adds another and a third pretty soon after that. He’s being pretty gentle with himself and like it feels sort of nice but nothing crazy.

Jesse squirts some of the lube onto the plug before slowly lifting himself up and lowering back down on the thing. It’s better than his fingers, stretches more, feels like more solid and soon he’s sucked it all in up to the like flared base.

And Jesse’s feeling a little let down until like oh yeah, he thinks he should probably move around or something. He rocks back and gets a chill right up his fucking spine.

“ _Shit_ ,” he gasps.

Jesse does it again, a little harder, and _holy shit_ does this feel good. Gripping onto the blankets, he really starts riding the plug. He grinds back into, still going kind of easy, like not too fast, but it still feels super fucking dope. Keeping himself steady with his left hand, he lowers his right to jerk himself. And the whole time, he’s imagining Bryan driving into him, hovering over him from behind all huge and broad and handsome. He’d probably kiss Jesse’s back and stroke his hair with Jesse on his knees or belly. He would be like so fucking good to him.

And it’s the memory of Bryan’s hand on Jesse’s cock that makes Jesse finally get there, coming in his own fist, wishing Bryan was there.

Cleaning himself up with some tissues, Jesse decides like right then and there that the next time he sees him, he is so getting fucked by Bryan Cranston.


	8. Chapter 8

Bryan doesn’t get in until nearly midnight due to inclement weather. The LAX is somewhat of a ghost town: maintenance workers gliding by in those silent golf carts, bars lowered in front of glowing Cinnabon and TCBY displays, a few unlucky passengers delayed and stuck here as they try to sleep with hoodies and backpacks as make-shift pillows. Bryan has an Uber waiting for him and the trip home is pleasant. His Uber driver is a middle-aged man who knows Bryan more from _Malcolm in the Middle_ than _Breaking Bad_ and they exchange pleasant chit-chat until Bryan’s dropped off.

Once inside, Bryan leaves his suitcase in the living room to deal with later, drinks a glass of water, and finds Jesse asleep on Bryan’s side of the bed. Bryan gets undressed down to his briefs and scoots under the covers until his chest is flush with Jesse’s invitingly warm back. The boy stirs before clamping onto Bryan’s arm, turning his head and whispering out a gravely, “Yo, you’re back.”

Before Bryan can say anything, Jesse’s kissing him. And it isn’t a simple “It’s nice to see you again” kiss. No, it’s much filthier than that. The boy slides his tongue in right away and Bryan gets a little thrill kissing him in the dark like this in the middle of the night, slightly jet-lagged, and Jesse is this small bundle of soft, sleepy warmth. He caresses his palms down Jesse’s chest, jolting a little himself when the boy jumps at the brush of Bryan’s fingers on his nipples.

Bryan smiles, feeling a little foolish for not doing this before considering how much Aaron loves nipple play. Pulling his lips from Jesse’s, he leans down and licks at the left bud, sucking as it stiffens in his mouth. Jesse gasps and tilts his pelvis up as Bryan moves to the right and he can feel pressed into his abdomen that the boy is already fully hard in boxers. He’s lightly rubbing himself against Bryan, practically mewling as Bryan slips his hand past the waistband to give the poor boy some relief. And while Bryan doesn’t want to spook Jesse’s semi-newfound sexual openness by turning the bedside light on, the noises he’s making are too tempting.

Jabbing the button at the base of the lamp, Bryan grins down at Jesse dazed and squinting with his lips parted.

“I wanted to see you,” Bryan says.

The sound of the guy’s voice--let alone the words he’s saying--sends a fucking shiver straight to Jesse’s crotch and he ruts up for that sweet friction of the dude’s hand on his prick.

“Looking at you ain’t too bad either, man,” Jesse says.

Bryan smirks and nods down somewhere. “You think I could get the full view?”

Jesse realizes he means he wants him totally naked so he nods and smirks too. “Yo, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He tries reaching for his boxers but Bryan’s other hand gets there first, teaming up with the one that was around his cock to gently slide Jesse’s underwear off his legs. It’s been who knows how long since somebody’s undressed Jesse and it makes him feel tingly in a good way.

Jesse sets his fingers on Bryan’s briefs and tugs them down until it’s too awkward to get them past his knees so Bryan takes over with a chuckle and then Jesse is pretty much super aware of how close Bryan’s dick is to him. And with like no explanation, he sits and flips over on his stomach before raising his ass up. It might not be the like subtlest way to do this but when the fuck has Jesse ever been like subtle or some shit?

And Bryan’s somewhat torn thinking this is just a little funny how Jesse is reverting to this kind of brash, in-your-face gay porn blocking while also feeling incredibly turned on by that familiar, slender, taut ass. 

He massages the back of Jesse’s neck and leans down. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” Jesse says, arching his back like a pussy cat. “Totally, man. I’m…I’m ready and everything.”

“Okay,” Bryan says with an exhale.

While he might still have a few reservations about this, he’s only human. He isn’t going to turn Jesse down again. Reaching for the lube in the nightstand, he gets a hand on his wrist.

Jesse’s peering back at him a touch self-consciously. “You…don’t gotta do that. Seriously, I’m uh…ready.”

Bryan raises an eyebrow, not fully understanding him until the light manages to catch Jesse’s rear at the right angle and Bryan can swear the boy’s opening is gleaming. Testing out this theory with a curious fingertip, Bryan groans once his finger is gliding back and forth, slipping into tight, alluring wetness.

“I…didn’t know when you were gonna get here,” Jesse says, already starting to pant. “Decided to get all prepped and shit just in case and then sort of…passed out without washing it out. Is…that gross?”

“Hell no,” Bryan says with a snort. “Coming home to find a gorgeous man ready and wet for you is the exact opposite of gross.”

The boy awkwardly chuckles, freckled shoulders seeming to get rosy at Bryan calling him gorgeous and Bryan dips down to kiss the dappled skin.

“Yo,” Jesse says. He snickers into the pillow. “I ain’t a chick or nothing just ‘cause I used lube to”—

Whatever the boy intended to say is cut off as Bryan slides two fingers inside him, curling them gingerly, going at an even speed though maybe a little faster than necessary considering it’s a little past Bryan’s bedtime, and traveling jitters and stress have made Bryan a bit impatient. But he reels himself in, gets himself under moderate control, searches for the boy’s prostate and knows he’s succeeded with flying colors when Jesse hollers into the crook of his arm.

“Good?” Bryan says, maybe a little cocky.

Jesse shouts again at the next twist of Bryan’s wrist. “ _Fuck_.”

Bryan grins, devoting his attention to that little bundle of nerves before sliding his fingers out teasingly and lowering his lips to the shell of the boy’s ear.

“Flip over on your back.” Bryan kisses his neck. “I want to watch your face when you come.”

“ _Oh shit_ ,” Jesse moans.

Jesse hadn’t really thought two guys could do it face to face, but that was probably pretty stupid of him. He turns over anyway and splays his thighs open, totally liking the feeling of Bryan dropping down between them, and he licks his lips as the dude gets a hand wrapped around the base of himself and guides his cock inside.

The guy ain’t even half-way in and Jesse jerks his hips up to take him in the rest of the way. Bryan’s face gets all dopey and dazed-like, and _fuck_ Jesse must look just as done for ‘cause this feels awesome. It doesn’t hurt at all even when he wraps a hand around Bryan’s neck and pulls himself up again. That actually feels even better and soon he’s totally fucking himself on Bryan’s thick cock, raising his hips before dipping his ass down and titling back up.

After a minute or two, Bryan’s expression clears a little and the guy is thrusting down in like perfect rhythm with Jesse. Bryan starts kissing him too, everywhere: his cheeks, his lips, his chest, his wrists, even his forehead. Jesse doesn’t just throw this word around but like he’s pretty sure they’re not just fucking, they’re fucking making love.

And Bryan is a little proud of himself for being able to last this long with his orgasm hanging on a crumbling cliff. He finds the boy’s prostate again in record time and lovingly grinds the head of his cock into as Jesse cries out in pleasure.

Bryan is holding his release back with practically white knuckles when Jesse heaves his chest up, eyes pinching shut and Bryan gets a thick, eager burst of come on his chest.

That’s most certainly Bryan’s cue. And it’s almost painful how good it feels to come fully inside the boy, gripping with both hands on his ass as he unloads himself so intensely he feels weightless.

It’s a mess Bryan is happy to fetch a hand towel to wipe up, cleaning himself and Jesse as the boy lies there in a smiling stupor. Cupping the side of Jesse’s face, Bryan doesn’t want to patronize him but this was Jesse’s first time after all.

“Does anything hurt? Do you need anything?” Bryan says.

Jesse shakes his head, still smiling, looking a little drowsy now. He grabs onto Bryan’s shoulder. “Nah, man. Just make out with me a little.”

Bryan chuckles but bends down, pecking Jesse’s nose fondly before kissing him deep and wet on the mouth. He pulls the blanket over the both of them, their legs slotting together, kissing in the lamplight.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse springs up out of bed faster than a kid on Christmas morning when he finds it empty. And it ain’t like he’s excited to open presents or play in the snow. He’s worried about where the fuck Bryan went off to. Maybe it’s lame as hell, but the dude’s been gone for days and he’s not ready for the guy to like jet off to New York again.

Tugging on a pair of Aaron’s navy boxers, he like fucking clamors down the stairs like a dog that’s smelled bacon or some shit. He almost trips over his own damn toes before he’s skating across the hardwood floors of the dinning room and rushing into the kitchen to find Bryan: sitting at the island with a mug of coffee, wearing glasses, reading totally casually from a huge stack of paper like he has no clue that Jesse thought he abandoned his ass after getting some.

“Good morning,” Bryan says. He gives him a look up and down that could have been creepy if Jesse wasn’t totally hooked on the guy. Plus, he does it with this sort of goofy pinch to his mouth like he wants to laugh and say something sarcastic and kiss him all at the same time. “Did you think the house was on fire or is this a newfound hobby of running around in nothing but your underwear? Which if so, I have no complaints.”

Jesse hooks an arm across his chest to scratch at his shoulder. “You weren’t in bed.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says, like wry little smile on his face. “I’m not sure if it’s my age, but it’s hard for me to sleep in past eight these days. And it’s”— he glances at the time on the oven— “almost eleven o’ clock. Last night must have really taken it out of”—

“Yo, last night…we had…sex,” Jesse says.

It comes out as pathetic as it sounded in his head, which is probably the reason he’s got his eyes down and ahead. Bryan’s got highlighters and pens next to his mystery papers and it reminds Jesse of Mr. White in a weird way. He wonders how the asshole’s doing with Aaron helping him with the cook, how he probably likes Aaron better, just like Bryan does too.

Jesse peeks up from the kitchen island to see Bryan’s glasses are off, face showing some like reasonable confusion.

“Was I,” Jesse says. “Was I like…as good, you know, like as good a fuck as Aaron. Did I do it right?”

_Fuck_ , why is everything coming out of his mouth sound so fucking stupid this morning?

“Come ‘ere,” Bryan says. His voice and expression are like just as soft as the hug Jesse gets when he makes his way closer to the guy. “I would never compare the two of you in that way. It would be disgusting of me. I really like you, Jesse. But, if you don’t want to sleep with me again, if that happened too fast or if you’re having second thoughts, there’s absolutely no pressure.”

Jesse’s never felt so small in somebody’s arms before, but it’s fucking weirdly nice in a way that could describe like everything with Bryan.

“I want to do it again,” he says, kind of whispers ‘cause saying it out loud feels embarrassing. Jesse pecks his jaw. “You ever fucked anybody on this island before?”

Bryan chuckles right up against him and it feels nice.

“Can’t say that I have but we’re sort of under a deadline with”—

Jesse presses his mouth against the guy’s, shutting him up with the like intention of just making out ‘cause he wants to and they haven’t since last night. He slips the tip of his tongue in Bryan’s mouth the first chance he gets and Bryan’s not shy about using tongue too, except maybe in a classier way Jesse needs to like take notes on, put a pin in for later, and try to like replicate that shit since it’s making him all gooey inside.

Bryan pulls back after a minute or two, thumbing Jesse’s lower lip and Jesse’s sort of surprised he likes it.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Bryan says with that fucking twinkle in his eye, “But you kiss like a filthy tramp in the best way possible. It makes me feel like I’m cheating on Aaron, which, my god, I guess that in fact I am.”

Jesse snickers, liking how Bryan’s arms are still around him as he sits on one of the bar-stools and Jesse’s standing.

“Yo, it’s not like Aaron’s not probably getting laid by Mr. White right about now.”

“What?” Bryan says, eyes crinkling as he laughs.

Jesse shrugs. “I mean we’ve talked about how the dude’s gotta be there if I’m here with you. And you guys date and Mr. White looks like you so like why wouldn’t Aaron want Mr. White to fuck him? You know?”

Bryan gets a little serious and like contemplative or some shit. “Hmm, I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. I hope…hope Walt’s not…well, I hope Walt’s being nice to Aaron.”

“Fat fucking chance. I totally got the sweet end of this fucking deal.” He maybe nuzzles into the dude’s neck ‘cause he wants to and ain’t nobody there to say shit about it. “You’re fucking awesome.”

Bryan kisses the side of Jesse’s face. “You’re not too bad yourself, especially in these.”

Jesse actually fucking yelps as the dude grabs his ass through his briefs, and then Jesse’s fucking giggling when Bryan starts tickling his side. He’s about to tell the guy to stop but Bryan stops on his own without any like begging on Jesse’s part. The dude just hugs him again all sweet and fucking considerate. And Aaron sort of snuggles into it and Bryan’s t-shirt smells like strawberries and vanilla.

“Did you have some of that healthy fruit smoothie shit for breakfast?” 

“I can tell you’re just devastated I didn’t save you some.”

Jesse snorts. “Yeah, whatever you say man. But like I am pretty hungry.”

Bryan kisses his temple and ruffles his fucking hair before pulling away, getting Jesse a plate down even though Jesse could have totally done that himself. But Bryan even puts a Wild Berry Pop-Tart in the toaster for him before sliding the thing over to him with a Mellow Yellow.

“Breakfast of Champions,” Bryan says with a smile.

Jesse takes a big bite of gooey, warm Pop-Tart sugary goodness. “Yeah, except I ain’t on a diet, yo. Who only eats one?”

Bryan brushes crumbs off his papers that look suspiciously like they came from Jesse’s mouth. “People who have lunch plans in about half an hour.”

“Sorry,” Jesse says, nodding to his messy handwork. “Is the lunch about that thing you’re reading? You in some Bible movie? That’s like more than I’ve ever written in every fucking class I took in school put together.”

“No on all counts,” Bryan says. “This movie’s actually called ‘Argo.’ Ben Affleck is directing actually and”—

“ _Yo_ , you mean like fucking Daredevil is directing movies now? We’re gonna get lunch with the ugly half of Bennifer? You think he’s still got JLO’s phone number?”

Bryan smirks and rolls his eyes. “Are you going to interrupt me all day?”

Jesse scarfs down the rest of his breakfast with a shrug and a smirk.

“Anyway, we are not having lunch with Ben Affleck. We’re going to a barbecue, smokehouse kind of place with Vince. He’s the writer of Breaking Bad. He created you.”

It’s sort of hard swallowing down a mouthful of Mellow Yellow when Jesse hears that but he manages without choking or anything, maybe looking a little lost before Bryan holds his wrist in a nice, soothing way.

“It’ll be fine. Fun even. He’s a great guy, trust me,” he says.

“Right on,” Jesse says.

And even if he’s not too fucking sure about this he’s gonna trust the dude ‘cause, well, he’s _him_ , how the hell could he not?


	10. Chapter 10

It ain’t like Jesse’s all that religious or whatever. But sitting at a picnic table across from the guy who in a totally bizarre mind-fucking way created him, Jesse can’t stop himself from thinking that he’d never pictured God as a dude in square glasses with a goatee and a Southern accent.

Not to mention he’s also eating a full plate of ribs so he’s got barbecue sauce all over his face. Jesse probably would be laughing if he didn’t feel about as nervous if he was on a first-fucking-date with the guy.

If he was, Jesse would have picked somewhere a little classier than this smokehouse joint that’s surprisingly chill for like a Hollywood lunch thing. Except they’re not in Hollywood but some side-bitch city that’s still got tons of palm trees and rich-ass people strolling by in fancy shades and shopping bags. Though a lot of the other people eating here are just wearing jeans and t-shirts, some of them in beanies which makes Jesse like feel happy and like vindicated knowing there’s other people who wear that shit even when it’s like seventy degrees out.

He even gets his hand over the back of the baggy black one he’s wearing and smirks at Bryan when Vince goes up to the front to refill his iced tea, acting smug ‘cause Bryan almost talked him out putting it on when they walked out of the house. And before Bryan can do more than roll his eyes, Jesse walks off for more ketchup. He’s gotta go up to the counter to grab one of those plastic squirt bottles and that’s where people order too and all the seating is outside. It actually reminds him of a way more like polished version of the Dog House with way less crank and with better fries.

Sitting back down on his side of the table next to Bryan, Jesse digs right into his huge heaping of thick-cut crinkle fries that taste smoky just ‘cause they’re close to the pulled pork he picked after Bryan recommended it under his breath. They’ve been here before and Aaron has like a “usual” and Jesse’s glad that includes dope homemade mac n’ cheese.

“Have you guys done any, uh, traveling recently?” Vince says.

That gets Bryan talking about New York and like directing terms Jesse’s never heard of, so he just eats and laughs when it’s appropriate and nods. Really the only like contribution to the conversation Jesse can think of is how he’s traveled fucking dimensions and that might be a lot to handle over lunch with pecan pie and ice cream apparently in their future.

“I uh, gotta come clean about something,” Vince says, setting one of his beef rib bones down. “While it’s always nice to see ya’ll, I kind of wanted to pick your brains a little. Well, uh, more so Aaron’s to be honest.”

Jesse fumbles his fork before just letting the thing flop down in his mac n’ cheese like a total asshole. “What…what do you mean?”

He hopes he doesn’t sound like half as panicky as he feels. And he’s kind of really relieved when it seems Vince is too busy dousing his collard-green-shit in vinegar to notice.

“Not to come across as too method here, but I was thinking of asking you some ‘Jesse’ questions. The writers and I are having a time out of figuring out certain parts of the upcoming season. And I know, I know, you’re an anti-spoiler man,” he says with his hands up in like surrender, “But we’ve been mulling over a sort of change in Jesse’s appearance, something new. But we can’t seem to agree on anything and I thought I’d ask the man himself, you know, uh, your opinion as if you were Jesse.”

If Bryan were smirking any harder behind his little fucking cheddar cheese, jalapeno corn bread muffin, the dude’s face would fall off. Even without that visual in the corner of his eye, like duh, Jesse gets the irony. He just ain’t sure what to say.

“So, I, like I…”

Vince chuckles. “Sorry, I’m so inside my own head right now, I barely formulated a freakin’ cohesive question. Let me set this up a little better. I, uh, was referring to, you know, how Jesse’s wardrobe changes so much from second season to third. His jeans aren’t so ridiculously large and his shirts aren’t as loud and he looks a little more…grown up kind of.”

Jesse scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip, swearing he made those decisions himself so it’s fucking weird hearing some group of writers actually did that.

Vince is still talking though so Jesse tries to pay attention. “…And most of us agreed we don’t want to be too repetitive or change too much for the premiere. But I guess what I’m trying to say is if you, Jesse Pinkman, shot Gale and killed him and had to live with the consequences, what do you think you’d do?”

“Gale? You mean that fucking nerdy-ass”—Jesse stops right there even though he wants to follow that up with ‘chemist who totally stole my job for a while.’ He knows Vince wants to hear from ‘Jesse,’ but he’s gotta be Jesse pretending to be Aaron pretending to be Jesse and that’s just like yet another twisty brain-bender of his average day.

Bryan elbows him jokingly. “You can’t out meta this one, am I right?”

Vince laughs and Jesse does too even though he’s got about a thousand questions about why he supposedly killed that helpless, limp-dick-looking geek of a dude. And like why they gotta go and change his look anyway? Is he going to fucking rehab again? Is he gonna flip his shit or something?

Jesse shrugs, feeling too hot and tugs off his beanie ‘cause the sun’s super warm. But even though he’s shaky, he chuckles and plays this cool and mellow though like invested like he thinks Aaron would. “I don’t know, man. I’d probably pull a Britney Spears and buzz all my hair off.”

He thinks that’s a pretty lame-ass answer, like influenced way too much by just how he’s feeling right now. But, Vince actually nods with his eyes all wide and shit.

“Aaron that’s awesome,” he says. “It works on so many levels. Jesse’s under duress, we get a different look for him, and maybe he’s even motivated to uh, look more like Walt. He wants to be big, strong, and tough. Shaving off all his hair, kind of entering the big boys club with Walt and Mike could make him feel like that. Awesome, Aaron. That’s just awesome.”

Vince excuses himself to get them three orders of that tasty pie he’d promised and Jesse might sort of pout like a little or whatever over his empty plate. He feels Bryan elbow him again.

“Fucking really?” Jesse says. “The big boys club? What am I like, eight years old?”

So maybe Jesse’s sometimes a softie real deep down but he can still fucking hold his own and like he’s been doing his own shit for like as long as he can remember since his parents don’t give two shits about him.

“Jesse, you just tricked the creator of _Breaking Bad_ , a man who has worked very closely with Aaron for months, into believing you’re Aaron Paul. Aside from that one slip about Gale, I’d say your performance was stunning.”

Jesse shrugs though it’s nice hearing that ‘cause he did pay like special attention to how he talked and listened and even sat: not too hunched over and maybe with like a little more confidence in an easy-going way he’s watched in some YouTube videos of Aaron doing interviews when he was at Bryan’s house by himself. 

“Thanks or whatever,” Jesse says.

Bryan dips his head down and like darts a kiss on his neck all sneaky and shit. “I’m proud of you or _whatever_.”

Jesse snickers, sort of not caring if anybody saw, and he’s totally hungry for pie and yeah, he kisses Bryan too. If anybody around them on this sunshiny-as-fuck day gives a shit they can suck his dick. Jesse even kisses him again, feeling happy or something. And he really is happy. He’s totally fucking happy. 


	11. Chapter 11

Aaron is well aware he’s got a pretty fucking cushy setup in terms of his lifestyle since _Breaking Bad_ started: having strangers buy him drinks for no reason and affording serious luxuries like his restored, classic Mustang when at one point he was borrowing rent money from his parents and constantly watching the mail for paychecks from HBO. He’s not scrounging around for auditions or delivering pizzas or anything like that. So maybe a little manual labor and temporarily getting stuck in an alternate universe shouldn’t be making him so testy. Back in normal circumstance he’s got things sweet. Shit, he doesn’t even know what he’d have said if someone had told him in his late twenties that in just a handful of years he’d be getting rides in limos to award ceremonies.

Award ceremonies.

“ _Shit_ ,” Aaron says. 

He’s elbows deep inside some disconnected part of machinery that allows Mr. White and him to make meth. Aaron can’t remember the name of whatever hunk of metal he’s got balanced in his arms only that it’s dirty and huge and needs to be scrubbed in order to maintain the level of fucking pristine cleanliness that Mr. White expects.

It would be easy to be annoyed with Mr. White, but Aaron figures at least some of the blame goes to Vince who sort of made Mr. White that way. It’s not like Vince ever thought the guy would be, well, like real and have the opportunity to interact with anybody let alone demand they do an extra thorough cleaning of the lab on a Saturday. Aaron wonders how Vince would react hearing about where Aaron’s been lately. The more Aaron thinks about it, the more it all sounds like some knock-off _Twilight Zone_ script. Vince digs that vintage, sci-fi stuff about as much as Aaron froths at the mouth over vintage cars. Maybe Vince would think this was all real neat, awesome, however he’d put it. It’s been so long since Aaron’s heard Vince’s voice and maybe this industrial-strength tub of cleaner he’s working with is starting to do weird, fume-like shit to his brain.

He wipes sweat from the back of his neck with a gloved hand and takes a couple of long lugs of orange Gatorade, because unlike Jesse, he’s at least somewhat prepared for this bitch of a job.

Mr. White clears his throat. “Were you saying something?”

Aaron has to consider that for a second. “Oh yeah. I uh, just remembered the Emmy’s are coming up soon. The show’s nominated in a couple of categories. Bryan got nominated. I’m nominated too.”

“ _Hmm_.” He’s making that humming noise, the one where he’s pretending to be completely indifferent while actually concealing an ego-fueled, self-absorbed, ass-hat-high level of interest. “How peculiar to think someone in another place is being honored for portraying my life.”

“Slow down, man. He hasn’t won the thing yet,” Aaron says.

There’s no way in hell he’s going to admit Bryan is the proud owner of two Emmy’s already. Mr. White’s head might explode in a rush of hot air like an over-inflated bouncy house with that kind of self-esteem pumping information.

“Do you think Jesse will be able to behave himself at such an event?” Mr. White scoffs. “God, can you imagine that imbecile in a tuxedo, fumbling over his words? That kind of decorum and presentation is certainly beyond the boy. I don’t even know if he attended his own prom.”

Mr. White snorts and Aaron does his best to keep his mouth shut. If Mr. White thinks he’s going to get some sort of comradery shit out of ragging on Jesse, he’s even more dense than Aaron thought because he feels so close to Jesse it’s like the dude’s got a long-term lease in Aaron’s heart. Maybe that sounds a little too flakey-method-actor-y, something Bryan would lightheartedly roll his eyes at, but Aaron really means it.

And yeah, if he’s honest, he’s actually pretty jealous that Jesse is with Bryan in Aaron’s place in whatever way that might be playing out right now. Aaron had wanted Bryan to be a little rougher with him in bed and role play with him. Now Aaron feels like he’s in some genie scenario where his wish inevitably turned on him and he got what he wanted but not really.

Tugging the yellow sleeves of his hazmat suit further up his wrist, he keeps scrubbing away.

“It’s safe to assume though that I’m fairly well off? I perhaps own a vacation home off the pacific? Maybe a sports car or two?”

Mr. White’s only sort of cleaning the tank now since he’s apparently too busy looking off into the distance and fantasizing like a teenage girl planning her dream sixteenth birthday party. And Aaron in no way misses how Mr. White throws in all those “I” this and that like he actually has any claim to any of Bryan’s accomplishments and possessions. 

“Bryan does pretty well,” Aaron says. “But he’s pretty responsible with his cash. He’s not like Justin Bieber or anything.”

Mr. White squints. “I’m sorry, Justin who?”

Aaron makes a dismissive gesture with his sponge. “Never mind. I just meant the guy didn’t get famous overnight. He paid his dues piecing together a living with like hemorrhoid cream commercials and soap opera guest appearances. The dude worked for decades before he was able to land a show like _Breaking Bad_.”

“A show like _Breaking Bad_?”

Aaron gives up on scrubbing his fingers numb to take another pull from his Gatorade bottle and seriously question why he had to go and say that shit. Sure, he wanted to defend Bryan. But did that mean he needed to open his mouth and give Mr. White more room to gloat?

“Let’s just say it’s popular. It’s got a following or whatever.”

Mr. White absently adjusts one of his rubber gloves and mutters, “following,” to himself in a tone that’s pompous as fuck.

Aaron tries to roll a kink out of his neck and think of a way to steer this conversation in a different direction.

“You know where I’m from, this stuff we make here,” Aaron says as he nods to a sealed bin of Blue Sky, “is just cotton candy flavored rock candy? Bryan and I eat it on set all the time when we need like quick energy. Actually if we followed the recipe we use on the show in my world we still wouldn’t make meth. Vince, the guy who writes the show, did a whole bunch of research but he purposefully took out steps and got stuff wrong so nobody watching could actually learn how to make drugs.”

“Smart,” Mr. White says.

He’s still got that far-away look in his eyes and Aaron still kind of wants to knock the expression off mainly just for shits.

“Yeah, Vince is kind of a genius. He’s also like the creator of you. Which must be sort of trippy. It really makes you think how much of who you are is from your own brain and how much is coming from the guy upstairs or the influence of the people around you; nature verse nurture and all that.”

Aaron stands slowly and feels the strain on his lower back from sitting on the floor too long the second his sneakers are flat on the concrete. 

“Thank you for your help today,” Mr. White says. “I know this can’t be fun for you and I appreciate the care you take in our work. It’s refreshing to be around someone so motivated. And I’m serious when I say how nice it is to be around someone who isn’t rattling off every second and contributes insightful things to the conversations we do have.”

Aaron gnaws on the inside of his cheek because he’s torn between feeling insulted on Jesse’s behalf and maybe just a twinge of pride for getting Walt’s little verbal nod of approval in a way that makes Aaron own up to the fact that sometimes what Jesse wants creeps up into his own impulses as well.

“I have my moments,” he says, shucking off his gloves. “I’m going to take a smoke break if that’s cool.”

“Of course,” Mr. White says. His voice makes Aaron jump a little because the guy is somehow right behind Aaron now. He’s got a hand on Aaron’s shoulder as he digs his fingers right where Aaron needs them; crafty son of a bitch. “We should be finished in another half hour or so. I thought we could grab a few beers afterwards, if you’re interested of course.”

“Sounds cool, man.”

Mr. White jostles Aaron’s shoulder and before Aaron is ready for it, he gets a kiss on the side of his neck. It’s so fucking out of character that it feels like Bryan until the dude’s sucking over one of the fresher bite marks and then everything’s hazy and dopey for a second. He gets a pat on the back.

Aaron starts for the stairs without a look back because he doesn’t want to give Mr. White the satisfaction of seeing his handiwork smeared across Aaron’s face. It’s sort of refreshing that Mr. White’s being a little nicer. Maybe the guy’s making an effort at least. Either that, or he wants to get laid. And while Aaron definitely misses stuff like Bryan’s slow, deep kisses and warm arms around him on the couch, Aaron still likes the name calling and rough thrusts and other kinky shit Mr. White and him have been doing too.

Aaron slips a cigarette in his mouth the second he clears the laundromat and digs out Jesse’s lighter. Free beer and rough sex? So maybe tonight wasn’t going to be so bad.


	12. Chapter 12

It only takes them another fifteen minutes or so of polishing and wiping down and then locking up the lab once Aaron’s finished his cigarette in the parking lot.

Mr. White takes them to a kind of pricey, upscale brewery Aaron offhandedly mentioned to Mr. White when he read about it the paper. Aaron isn’t much of a newspaper guy, keeping up with current events mostly through the internet, but it’s still beyond weird for him to be in a world he once thought of as fictional and have all these real, tiny little pieces that Aaron never saw in a script. Even on the way to the brewery Aaron sees stuff like a church holding a potluck dinner and a guy in a Camaro getting pulled over for speeding and the J.P. Wynne parking lot filling up before a basketball game.

Scorpion, the name of this joint, is crawling with people mostly around Aaron’s age. The back patio has a bunch of games like a human-sized chess board and corn-hole and inside people are nodding their heads to a 70s song by the same group who sings “A Horse with No Name,” which seems to make Mr. White happy.

He orders them round after round of craft beers that all have intricately drawn labels on the pint glasses, advertising brands Aaron’s again never heard of, and they split a basket of pita chips and spicy humus before the giant chess board is free. Aaron loses best two out of three which is a little insulting considering Mr. White’s about a drink or so ahead of him. Aaron figures he’s going to be driving tonight so he takes it slow.

And the guy only gloats a little on the way back to his apartment. By the time they’re inside the living room, he’s groping at Aaron’s belt and grinding against the back of his thigh. Mr. White grabs him by both arms and turns him around. Aaron’s expecting some sort of demand or to get shoved onto the couch but Mr. White sits down at his arm chair. He reaches for Aaron’s belt again though with shakier hands, taking a while to get it unbuckled before he’s messing with the zipper.

Mr. White nervously glances at him. “I want to try something.”

With that, he pulls off Aaron’s jeans and boxers in one go until they’re bunched below his knees. Aaron is only half-hard but the anticipation is making him twitch.

Mr. White strokes him with one hand and pulls him closer with the other hand clamped around his inner thigh. He wraps that second hand around the hilt of Aaron’s cock and peers up at him uncertainly again.

“This is my first time, so go easy on me, son.”

Aaron has maybe a fraction of a second to let that _son_ do shit to his dick before Mr. White takes the head in his mouth and laps at the ridge with a heavy tongue.

“ _Oh fuck, Mr. White_ ,” Aaron moans.

The guy sucks, _oh for fuck’s sake_ , Mr. White _sucks_ Aaron’s cock, and he’s not even that good at it but Mr. _Fucking_ White is blowing him and that concept alone is making Aaron so unfairly horny.

Aaron feels a tongue licking at his slit before Mr. White’s mouth goes up then just an inch or two down the shaft. It’s been so fucking long since he’s had a blowjob that it only takes another minute of this before Aaron grabs onto his shoulder in some startled form of warning because he apparently has the endurance of a fucking sixteen year old virgin tonight.

Mr. White seems to get the idea because he pulls off and cups Aaron’s cock as Aaron comes with a whole a lot more hip spasms and moaning out, “ _Mr. White_ ,” than Aaron really wants to admit. He’s still shaking a little as Mr. White grabs a tissue from the end-table to clean his palm. And now with his orgasm shuddering it’s way to a stop, Aaron’s kind of scared of what Mr. White’s got planned.

“What the fuck?” Aaron says, panting. “What the fuck was that? What are you buttering me up for, man?”

Mr. White looks genuinely confused and pretty buzzed too.

“Nothing,” he says. He wipes at his mouth with a clean tissue. “You’ve been giving me who knows how many of those these past few months and I thought I’d take a crack at it. Why not?”

Aaron pulls his clothes back on. “Bullshit. Since when do you anything that doesn’t benefit you? And just remember I know all your dirty, little secrets, man. Don’t go and”—

“That’s just it,” Mr. White says. He has this almost sheepish expression on his face. “You know far more of my illicit doings than Jesse or Skyler or anyone for that matter and yet you choose to work with me. Hell, you buy me McDonald’s for breakfast and tell me chemistry jokes and allow me to have sex with you. You’re the first person maybe ever who has taken a good, hard look at me and you’re still here. Is it a crime that I just wanted to return the favor?”

Stunned would be an understatement. Aaron is literally speechless because just when he thinks he knows this guy’s every angle, Aaron turns a corner and slams into a wall so to speak.

“I guess not.” Aaron teeters a little in Jesse’s Van’s slip-ons and shrugs, throwing in a smile too. “Sorry for accusing you, man.”

Mr. White relaxes against the couch. “It’s no problem. But, speaking of returning the favor.”

The dude parts his legs as he raises an eyebrow and Aaron smirks as he settles on his knees. He hesitates just for a second before starting up a series of hot-breathed, wet, open-mouthed kisses along the inseam of Mr. White’s khakis.

“ _Good boy_ ,” Mr. White gasps.

Aaron clamps his lips around the bulge swelling through the fabric and feels himself starting to get hard again. He hopes the guy’s up for another round after this. Maybe they could even cuddle a little tonight. Who the hell knows? 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the off chance you've read this far, please don't be sad there's not a clean-cut ending because as I mentioned, my super cool friend lizwontcry is writing her own ending :)

So going to that gala to save the whales or whatever was one thing, but the Emmys is shit Jesse’s actually heard of before so maybe that’s why he’s three times more nervous. It’s not like he has that much experience wearing fancy clothes but he’s pretty sure now like no one wears a full-on suit and tie for fun ‘cause he’s sweating his ass off in this brown thing with a checkered bowtie that Bryan fucking swore to him didn’t look lame and everything he’s got on is apparently Prada or some shit.

The red carpet stuff lasts longer compared to the one at the whale thing and way more people stop to talk to him. He…Aaron is nominated tonight so he’s getting a ton of questions about how he feels: “Are you having a good night?”; “How do you feel getting a second nomination?”; “What’s it like portraying such a vulnerable and complex character always living so close to the edge of a mental breakdown?”

Jesse kind of wants to speak up about that last one with something like, “I’m right here, yo! Stop talking about me like I ain’t here.” But that’s kind of the opposite of what he’s supposed to do and oh yeah, he’s gotta stay on the DL about the talk he had with Vincent about the whole head shaving deal. Jesse keeps his fucking cool about it all. Plus, he watched more YouTube interviews just for tonight and he’s careful to sound excited (which he fucking is because even if he’s inside this guy in a _Body Snatchers_ sort of vibe he still might get a fucking Emmy award), but he also tries to come across as like honored as fuck to be there and jokey like the dude is with the people who interview him. He says bitch too many times to count and almost pisses his pants when the guy who plays Mr. White’s brother-in-law smacks him on the back and tells him good luck. He probably looks like a fucking a deer in headlights and Bryan is there to cover his ass again. The dude says they’re gonna find some drinks and then playfully elbows Jesse in the ribs more than a few times while they walk to bar, smiling at him a lot too.

They have to wait on Jesse’s rum and Coke for a little bit and Bryan holds Jesse’s hand as he leans close to his ear.

“You’re doing great, kid. Just relax. Even on the off chance you _do_ win, you’ll _only_ have to be on stage in front of a few million people.”

The dude is smirking so hard Jesse can’t help but laugh and it’s weird but he actually feels better and he only has enough time to take a couple of sips of his drink before this thing’s starting.

Then Jesse’s sitting down with like a fuck-ton of famous TV actors all dressed up and wearing a bunch of different fancy perfumes and colognes like he got too close to the makeup section at Macy’s. He hasn’t heard of basically any of these shows ‘cause it’s still 2009 where he’s from but people make some like decent speeches and one of the two guys from _The Man Show_ is pretty funny as the host. They even do this thing where he sits between Bryan and him and he asks them if they ever wondered what their show would have been like before cable. Jesse knows what to say ‘cause they told him beforehand so him and Bryan pretend to not be interested and then fake it but like in a way people know they’re faking interest all sarcastic. On a giant screen they show this black-and-white short video that’s like _The Andy Griffith Show_ but with Aaron and Bryan in their hazmat suits. It was made before Jesse got here and it’s bizarre as hell watching a guy who looks exactly like him do shit he didn’t do, even if the clip is all of forty-five seconds.

When the host dude goes back on stage, Bryan bumps his knee against Jesse’s ‘cause Aaron’s category is coming up real soon. And Jesse has spent like all day trying to convince himself it ain’t a big deal since he’s not really getting the award. But, all that lying to himself means jack shit when he hears Aaron’s name along with “Jesse Pinkman” and _holy fucking shit_ he isn’t prepared to hear his _actual fucking_ name! He feels nauseous as he sees the red lights of cameras on him and a spotlight and like over a million people just heard _his_ fucking name!

It all feels so insane, he’s not even a little embarrassed when Bryan hugs him and kisses him on the cheek before he’s being led up on stage.

Then the chick from the third Terminator movie is giving him this shiny-ass trophy and he’s got a mic in front of him and a bunch of folks at home eating dinner and shit and waiting for him to say something. Shit, he can’t remember the stuff Bryan helped him prepare at all. Fuck it, he’s just gonna wing this bitch.

“ _Yo_ ,” he says. His voice sounds funky in the mic and also breathy and like he’s totally beside himself or some shit, but everyone claps and some people laugh too.

Even though Jesse knows they aren’t even in this universe, he’s still picturing the expression on his parents’ faces if they were. He remembers all those times they probably thought he was a fuck-up and Mr. White’s bitter ass watching and even Pete and Badger stoned as hell cheering him on loud enough ‘cause they’d think Jesse could actually hear them through the damn T.V. He might tear up a little, but he keeps talking.

“Yo, I never thought I’d be up here but this is like the coolest shit that’s ever happened to me. It’s crazy that there’s peeps out there that like Jesse Pinkman enough to give me an Emmy but like here I am, yo.”

He raises the thing up like he just won a gold medal at the Olympics and he gets more cheers and fuck it if Jesse isn’t soaking this all in like a damn sponge. Bryan is grinning at him from his seat but also patting the pocket of his suit jacket and oh yeah, that’s where Jesse left his speech, in Bryan’s pocket. But he remembers a few pieces and manages to thank specific people like Vince and some other names Bryan gave him in production shit.

“Hey, and I also want to thank Bryan Cranston,” he says once he’s said all that he can remember from that slip of paper they jotted down in the living room last night. “You’re one weird dude but you’re also really awesome and I love being around you, working with you and shit”—

Jesse pops a hand over his mouth ‘cause he’s not sure if he can say shit like “shit” on national television but he just gets like a full-out fucking roar of people cracking up so he blows a kiss since his hand’s already there.

“Thank you,” he says. And since no one dragged him off the stage for saying shit he adds, “Peace out, bitches.”

And people are still laughing as he’s walking down the steps and no one wearing ear pieces back stage looks mad or nothing. He feels pretty relieved but also hella jittery as he does that awkward thing where he has to squeeze himself between people’s knees and the seats in front of them. Right before he makes it back to his own seat, the lady who plays Mr. White’s wife stands up in a super sparkly, dark green dress and gives him this massive hug. He’s only been around this chick once in his driveway a long-ass time ago and she like fucking hated him. So it takes a few seconds for him to hug her back and she even kisses his cheek too.

Bryan claps him on the shoulder as Jesse sits down.

“You looked great up there. I’m confident that no one but me and a thousand or so people caught you getting emotional.”

Jesse snickers. “Suck my dick.”

Bryan claps him on the side of his face and leans in a little more, voice all low and raspy. “Oh, I certainly plan on it.”


End file.
